


The return of the Cynic

by anastasiapullingteeth



Series: Fire and Water [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3155684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire go to see a movie as a reward for the endless hours of hearing LOTR soundtracks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The return of the Cynic

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank [Meeni](http://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsonthemoon/pseuds/demonsonthemoon), [Zombieprinz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieprinz/pseuds/Zombieprinz), and, uh, xx? for inspiring me to write this. You can totally blame them.
> 
> My ability to title these fics has no limits, I’m so funny.

Saying that Enjolras was nervous was an understatement; he was terrified.

This would be his very first date in… well, his whole life and the fact that it was with Grantaire was turning his legs into jelly. He looked at his reflection in the mirror for the third time, adjusted the collar of the red button-up he was wearing above the black shirt, and let out the air he didn’t notice he was holding. It would be okay. It was just a movie. With Grantaire. A movie with Grantaire in a dark theater… It would be okay… He should’ve called Combeferre for help.

He threw a quick glance at the clock on his desk and had a mini heart attack. It was almost time to meet with Grantaire and he didn't feel ready. He _was_ ready, as far as he could tell; his hair was brushed and the clothes were okay. How did someone even dressed to see a movie? He couldn't believe people did this all the time.

Another glance at the clock. "I'll pick you up at seven", he'd said days ago after Grantaire announced he was finally done with his work. It was completely ridiculous he’d even offered to do the picking up, considering they lived in the same apartment, but Grantaire had smiled sweetly as he nodded, so Enjolras thought it’d been the right thing to say.

6:59. It was now or never.

He knocked on Grantaire’s door, clenching his fists tightly at his sides, pretending his legs weren't trembling. However, when the other man poked his head out of his room, he stood speechless in the hallway, his mouth hanging slightly open. Grantaire was wearing a dark green, long-sleeve shirt under a black waistcoat; he looked stunning, his unruly, dark hair framing his face.

"Sorry, I'll be with you in a second." He said, pulling Enjolras out of his reverie. "I just lost my- oh, come on, you can wait inside."

Enjolras walked warily into Grantaire bedroom. It looked completely different from the last time he'd been there, when the walls had been covered by freshly painted canvases and there wasn't a single spot of the floor at sight under the discarded food wrappings. He took a look at the closest shelf and had to stop himself from bursting out laughing; the shelf was completely stacked with toys of all kind of what, according to the packages, were elves, hobbits, and dwarves?

"Aren't you a little bit old to be playing with toys?" Well, that'd been so smooth, Enjolras, he scolded himself.

"I don't play with toys, I collect them." Grantaire said with a crooked smile. "And even then, I'm twenty. Nerding over _The Lord of the Rings_ when you're twenty is considered to be cool. The only thing that could top that is _Star Wars_ ; you can freely nerd over _Star Wars_ until your fifties and being praised for it."

"… I don't like _Star Wars_ either."

"Jesus Christ, what are you?!" Grantaire gasped, dramatically placing a hand over his mouth.

"Very funny."

"Okay, don’t panic. We can work with that. All I’ll have to do is educate you." He tucked his hair inside a knitted beanie and smiled at Enjolras. "But first thing first: I was told we were going on a date."

"Ye- yeah. Right… What are we watching anyway?" he asked, following Grantaire out of the apartment.

"It’s a surprise, but you’re gonna love it."

Once in the theater, the lights turned off completely, leaving the room submerged in the darkness until the movie started running. A little guy with pointy ears and big, hairy feet appeared on screen and Enjolras recognized him from that time Jehan and Courfeyrac had dragged him to see those rings movies. He frowned; no more damn elves or whatever those creatures were, for the love of Patria. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" he asked Grantaire, turning to look at him.

The dark-haired man was chuckling behind his hand, unable - or don’t even trying to, Enjolras suspected - to hide his amusement; Enjolras sank in his seat. "I don't know what you’re talkin' about," Grantaire whispered, but he leaned closer to him so Enjolras omitted any further comment, distracted by the sudden heat he felt on his cheeks.

When the movie had barely began, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Grantaire was shifting in his seat as he moved his hand a few inches on the armrest they’d been sharing. He brushed his fingertips on the back of Enjolras’ hand and the blond immediately accepted the silent invitation, grasping his hand. The art student rubbed small circles on his skin with a thumb, their shoulders pressed together, as close as the armrest allowed them to be.

Enjolras wasn't paying attention anymore; he didn't understand what was going on in the movie anyway, and even if he did, after Grantaire let go of his hand for a second to move the armrest out of their way, the only thing he could think of was the soft pressure of their joined hands over his thigh. He forced himself to stare at the screen, but his eyes kept drifting off to the man sitting next to him, the one that now was nudging at his side playfully at the time he winked an eye in his direction. Grantaire will be the death of him.

 

"Okay, but if the eagles were going to carry them up to there either way, couldn't they have dropped them a little closer at least?" Enjolras said as they walked out of the movie theater, pushing to the back of his mind for now the fact that he was still holding hands with Grantaire.

Grantaire laughed loudly, shaking his head in a way that clearly meant Enjolras had no clue about anything. "It's a long story, man. I won't spoil you the next movies."

"Wait, there'll be more than this one?!"

"Yep, and you're gonna come with me when those are out", Grantaire threatened, kissing his cheek softly. "Now, how ‘bout we get ourselves something to eat. I'm starving."

Enjolras nodded, speechless. He'd go anywhere as long as he could have moments like this with Grantaire.

 

***

 

It turned out Grantaire took quite seriously the promise of educate him with his knowledge on pop culture, starting with a marathon of the extended editions of the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. Enjolras had seen them all already, but Grantaire insisted that, since he hadn't been present at the moment, it didn't count; a re-watching was necessary.

Grantaire sat down on a chair, trying to open up the bag of chips with a deep frown on his face, mumbling to himself. Enjolras watched him fighting with the wrapping from the kitchen counter for about three minutes until he took pity of him, and approached him to help. He considered the best way to approach this: he could take the bag out of Grantaire’s hands, open it up for him, and give it back; or he could just… He chose the second option, walking slowly behind Grantaire and throwing his arms around the artist to reach the bag still in his hands.

"It doesn't open up like that," he said, resting his chin on Grantaire's shoulder and taking his hands to place them on either side of the bag. Grantaire leaned against his chest, tangling his fingers with Enjolras' to pull at the package together. Enjolras took the chance to breathe Grantaire’s scent on his neck as they both watched the bag finally giving up. "See?"

Grantaire smirked, pushing the bag to the center of the table and standing up rapidly, facing Enjolras. He edged him back with his hands on Enjolras’ neck until he was pressed against the wall, their chests barely touching as Grantaire leaned in and rubbed his nose on Enjolras' cheek, dangerously close to his mouth. Enjolras' held his breath, curling his fingers tentatively on the fabric of Grantaire’s t-shirt.

"I really, really want to kiss you right now," he said, joining his forehead with Enjolras' own, his eyes firmly closed as if he was trying to contain himself.

"I was just thinking how much I'd like that."

Grantaire step back so he could see Enjolras’ eyes. After confirming that the blond wasn't joking, he tilted his head and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Enjolras felt him smiling when he tried to follow his lips after they broke apart, so he framed his face again with his hands and kissed him, running his tongue over his lip. Enjolras, feeling himself more confident, wrapped his arms around Grantaire waist to bring him closer until their bodies were pressing together at every possible spot.

Grantaire sucked lightly at his lip and Enjolras opened his mouth to welcome him. The kiss was deeper now; Grantaire had moved his arm to hold him by the shoulders while his other hand rested firmly on the nape of his neck. Right when Enjolras had decided to roamed his hands all over Grantaire’s back and down to his ass, they heard a knocking on the door that made them step away from each other like a pair of horny teenagers that got caught doing dirty things.

"I'm so gonna kill whoever that is," Grantaire grunted.

He ran a hand over his face before going to the front door. Enjolras remained leaning against the wall; his cheeks were burning hot and he couldn’t stop himself from licking his lips, savoring Grantaire's taste on them. He did his best to smile innocently at the girl that walked into the living room, closely followed by a very blushed Grantaire. He understood if the art student couldn’t do more than carving holes in the back of the girl’s head; as far as he knew, that blue-haired girl was one of Grantaire’s best friends.

"Hi, uh… Colette, isn't it?" he said, stretch out his hand to shake the girl’s.

"Cosette," she corrected. "And don't worry, it won’t take long. I just came to grab something, you’ll go back real soon to do whatever you were doing before I got here," she added, throwing a knowing look at Enjolras’ kissed-red lips, and smirking.

Grantaire sat down on the armrest of the couch, shaking his head. They exchanged shy glances and lopsided smiles while Cosette rummaged inside Grantaire’s bedroom. She walked out minutes later, pretending to cover up her eyes and begging for a five-minute advantage before they started making out again. Once she left the apartment, Grantaire approached him again, pecking at his lips and taking his hand.

"Come on, you have a movie to watch if you want to understand the complexity that is Tolkien’s universe."

Enjolras huffed out a complaint, but let himself being dragged to the couch, taking the previously forgotten bag of chips with him.

 

***

 

Dating Grantaire and sharing an apartment with him at the same time proved to be equal parts one of the best and the most terrible decision Enjolras had made in his entire life.

He’d been late for almost all his morning classes since they were together, mostly because Grantaire adored to make breakfast for him and wouldn't let him go until he ate at least half the portion in his plate. Combeferre approved on this, assuring it was a good thing Enjolras were finally eating like he was supposed to instead of living based on coffee and half-made toasts. The truth was he couldn't blame Grantaire alone for his tardiness; breakfast would be done in half the time if he just stopped stealing kisses while Grantaire tried to cook.

On the bright side, there were the times when they cuddled on the couch or the bed after a long day at uni.

Enjolras had never been the clingy kind. A pat on the back here and then, a squeeze on the shoulder when something had been well executed; those were his thing. But with Grantaire, it was entirely a different thing. The artist always wrapped his arms around him, hiding his face on the crook of his neck while the blond caressed his scalp, getting a small kiss under his ear in return, and Enjolras could safely say he honestly enjoyed it.

It was so domestic that at times Enjolras feared something would blow up; they still fought over stupid things -like the volume of the music-, and Grantaire had that detachment toward everything Enjolras believed in that he abhorred so much. But it felt so… so right to be with him. Every kiss, every hug when he was trying to work, were just perfect. Even their discussions were perfect in their own way. And he liked it like that.

He sighed and poured himself more coffee, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes as he heard steps coming from the hallway. "Good morning, sunshine," Grantaire greeted him.

"Morning."

Grantaire hugged him from behind, kissing the back of his neck and nuzzling at his golden curls. "You know? I, uh… _Le melin_." ******

"What?” he asked, turning around to face him. “What does that mean?"

"Nothing”.

"No, really. What did you say?"

"Don't worry, okay? Now hurry up, you’re gonna be late." And with that said, he kissed his lips and pushed him to sit down at the kitchen table.

**Author's Note:**

>  ****** _“I love you”_ in a reverential way, according to Google. I'm not really a fan of LOTR - I connect with Enjolras here on a spiritual level - so I apologize if that's not correct.


End file.
